Total pages in book: 156
Estimated words: 151044 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 755(@200wpm)___ 604(@250wpm)___ 503(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 151044 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 755(@200wpm)___ 604(@250wpm)___ 503(@300wpm)
If Elle wanted this guy, she wanted him for a reason and I needed to understand her logic. Besides, this wasn’t about the stupid guy anyway.
I sipped my wine, lacking the bandwidth to explain all of that to Hale. “We’re going to be late.”
Hale sighed and went upstairs to change. A minute later he yelled, “I’m not wearing this.”
“Yes, you are!”
Of course, he didn’t wear the screen print T-shirt and jeans I put out. Instead he came down stairs in his usual button down dress shirt and designer slacks.
“At least roll up your sleeves.”
“I don’t know why what I’m wearing matters.”
“Because you have to put yourself on Paul’s level. We’re working on a love connection.”
“Between Elle and Paul?”
“No! Between you and Paul. As best friends it’s crucial that our men get along. Keep up!”
When we reached the restaurant, Hale searched for the hostess and paused, startled by the enormous shark head on the wall. There wasn’t an interior designer anywhere capable of explaining how the giant fish complemented the snow skis mounted to the left or the upside down cat clock hanging to its right.
Yup, this tacky place was Hale’s hell.
“I think we just seat ourselves.”
He frowned, as if the concept of not being formally seated somehow broke the laws of propriety.
“Oh, there they are.” I waved at Elle who was sitting next to a guy in what might as well have been a toddler’s T-shirt. “Holy muscles,” I mumbled under my breath. “Paul’s got bigger boobs than me.”
We reached the table but they didn’t rise to greet us on account of it being a booth. I wasn’t sure Hale ever dined in a booth before, so this would be an interesting experience for everyone.
“Hi!” I greeted, smiling at Paul. “I’m Rayne. This is Hale.”
The guys shook hands. No real sparks flying yet, but it was still early. I settled in across from Elle, forcing Hale into a conversational-corner with Paul.
“What are you guys drinking?” I asked, reaching for the cocktail menu.
“Water. We’re on a cleanse.”
I paused. “A what?”
I knew what a cleanse was, I just never understood the purpose. Denying the pleasures of food and alcohol went against my belief system in every way. There were only so many carnal pleasures in life. In my opinion, we needed all of them to balance out the stress and anxiety and general cases of The Mondays.
“It’s this thing Paul and the guys are trying. I thought it would be fun.”
Ahhh, the guys…
“Sooo, you’re not eating?”
“No, we can eat, just no meat, dairy, gluten, or sugar.”
“What else is left?”
“Detoxifying the organs is known to heighten other senses,” Paul explained with an air of arrogance. “Hale probably knows what I’m talking about.”
I looked at Hale. His poker face was in full effect so I couldn’t tell if he agreed or disagreed with Paul’s statement, but I thought I knew him well enough to assume he wasn’t the type to deny himself of life’s pleasures.
He gave a tight lipped grin as a reply.
Hale didn’t lust for food the way I did, but he enjoyed indulging in life’s little pleasures. I cared nothing for moderation and he loved that about me. Hale loved overindulging me, to the point that he sometimes got off on it. I, too, got off on his let’s-spoil-Rayne-kink. He turned me into a total whore for carbs, coming, and fancy clothes—sometimes presenting me with all three at once.
Those were the days that life was truly worth living.
While Paul continued to talk about the joy of depriving the body of pleasure, I mentally compared him and Hale. Hale’s lean, athletic build was a combination of potent Davenport DNA, innate sex-appeal, frequent morning jogs, a strong metabolism, and his endless thirst for adventure. Paul looked like someone had literally pumped him up with hot air.
Okay, that wasn’t nice. I needed to reset, so I opened a menu. What was I going to eat?
“I appreciate a life of moderation, but I also recognize the need for duality,” Hale said when Paul finally took a breath.
“Duality? How so?”
“Saintliness cannot exist without sin. We’re designed to be a mixture of both.”
Was it just me, or was he totally hot when he said philosophical shit like that?
Champagne and caviar were in his blood but he also loved earthy pleasures. Hale felt shamelessly entitled to whatever he craved, be it steak, pasta, pastries, or pussy. He was a walking aphrodisiac, a potent mixture of masculinity and propriety. And I was getting hot just thinking about how sexy he could be.
As if sensing my arousal, Hale slowly turned. His eyes creased ever so slightly as if he knew exactly what I was thinking. Then his hand landed on my thigh.
“Right, but it’s our job to control the balance. That’s where discipline comes in.” Paul continued to ramble about purifying the body while Elle stared up at him adoringly.